


Sometimes.

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Sadstuck, just venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deep down you knew that no matter how many messages you sent her, no matter how many times you visited her ruined hive, no matter how many times you tried to speak to that familiar voice in your head, she would never respond. She would never come back. And it was all your fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes.

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed to vent some feelings.  
> Was also havin sadstuck arasol feels.

* * *

Sometimes, you pretend that you still give two shits about your meaningless existence.

 

Sometimes you lay in the grass by her home, yellow and white flickering in an endless sea of pitch black above you. You thread blades of grass through your fingers, pretending that if she were here, it would be her hand in yours instead. You lay on your side and face nothing, open space your only partner.

Sometimes you remember the way her smile would shine brighter than Alternia’s sun. You remember how she’d lay with you during the night, cheeks tinted in that deep shade of red that you loved so much. Her hair, long and wavy, would fall in all the right places over her neck, her shoulders, her back, and you would smile and brush back those loose, curly strands that always fell into her face.

 

Sometimes you remember how on some days, you would cry, voices whispering and shouting at you all at once, and you would find that needle in the haystack. That one voice that you were so familiar with. The sweet, sweet sound of her laughter slowly fading into a scream. She shouted your name in your head. Questioned you. _“Why? Why? Why!?”_ And you would yell back that you didn’t know why, that you were so confused, and then you would hug yourself, feeling your stomach turn itself inside out and your limbs go numb. And it was during those episodes that you’d feel soft, small hands in your hair, stroking your scalp gently. _“Ssshhh…”_ She was so quiet and yet she managed to scare away all of the bad noises. She was louder than all the screams and cries of despair, and she would kiss your temples, your eyelids, your cheeks. She would kiss away all of the horror and fear and you would grab onto her, begging her not to leave you. You would ask if she was real, if she was gone, if you were just dreaming, and each time she assured you that yes she was indeed real. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was very much _alive_ and that she would always be there for you. She would dry your tears and you’d rest your head against her chest, listening to the angelic sound of her voice as she hummed you songs that you didn’t know until you fell asleep.

 

You were so happy. She was happy.

 

And then one night you woke up from a stupor, dizzy and cold, and your head was pounding and the voices had been so god damn _loud_. Your vision was blurry and you didn’t understand what was happening. It was dark. So dark. The ground around you was wet and you were wet and covered in something that smelled so horrible it made you want to vomit and then you felt your hand graze against something soft. Something delicate and small and oh god _what did you do_. You grabbed her body in your arms, your vision returning, and she was there and she wasn’t breathing and you called her name out, shouted it, screamed it. You yelled until your voice was hoarse and disgusting, yellow tears fell onto her pale grey face. The wound in her torso was large and _burned_ your hand when you touched it and you realized that it was you. The same burning that your psionics would leave when you used them. The groggy feeling you would get whenever the effects of mind honey would wear off. You looked down at your shirt and ugly truth stared up at you, the terrible substance sticking to the black fabric, which had been stained with her blood. You whispered her name, voice shaking, arms trembling, and dropped your head on her chest, sobbing and cursing and hating yourself.

_“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”_

You don’t remember how long you chanted it for. By the time you returned home, the sun was rising, and you didn’t care if by some miracle you were to suddenly catch flames from its dangerous rays and was put through a slow, painful death.

 

Days went by. Maybe even sweeps. Who even knew anymore?

 

Sometimes you allowed the voices to take you. You no longer knew what it was like to feel emotions like “joy” and “happiness.” You didn’t have anything to be happy about anymore. Everything you had cherished, loved, _lived for_ , was taken from you. You _destroyed_ it. You lived a life of solitude, separating yourself from the others. You deserved this. You deserved to be unhappy, miserable, sad.

Sometimes you would curl up in your computer chair and allow tears to fall from your eyes. Silently, you would cry, and your hands would move on their own, opening up Trollian and finding that rusty red that you still held dear to you. Those perfect initials that were the same no matter how you’d speak to her, in person or online. You would open a chat window, and before you could stop yourself you would type. And type. And type.

 

twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

TA: iim 2orry.   
TA: iim 2o 2orry.  
TA: ii mii22 you.  
TA: ii dont de2erve forgiivene22.  
TA: ii dont de2erve anythiing.  
TA: everythiing ii2 my fault.  
TA: never forgiive me.  
TA: plea2e.

twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

 

And then you would close the window, and deep down you knew that no matter how many messages you sent her, no matter how many times you visited her ruined hive, no matter how many times you tried to speak to that familiar voice in your head, she would never respond. She would never come back. And it was _all your fault._

 

Sometimes you have vivid dreams of her. Dreams where she’d hug you, rub your back, and it was blurry and you couldn’t see right but you knew it was her and she would tell you that everything was okay. You could hear the smile she wore, and you missed how cheerful she used to be. You would never hug back. Your body would always feel like dead weight, but she held you tightly anyway, not minding if you didn’t respond. _“I have to go now.”_ She would say, voice sweet like… like honey. “What?” You desperately called out to her, unable to see what was going on, unable to reach out to her. She felt so far away, yet she was right here. “Where are you going?” And then she was gone. And you would wake up, head throbbing, eyes sore and flickering brightly in the darkness of your room. And every time, just as you climbed out of your recuperacoon, before the voices could catch up with your awakened state, you could hear her. _“You don’t deserve this.”_ You can’t count how many times you’ve had the dream, and you think that you’ve officially become obsessed.

 

One night, it stopped. The dreams. Her voice. Everything had vanished, and it made you curl in on yourself, an overwhelming amount of loneliness settling in. Now, she was truly gone. You lost everything you had to remember her by. You don’t know how much time had passed after that. You became apathetic. Angry. You were a sarcastic asshole 50% of the time and a shitstorm of anger and self-pity the other 50%. But who cares? You weren’t trying to impress anyone. You weren’t looking to find love or anymore friends, and the ones you had were perfectly fine at the distance you kept them at.

But that itching, desperate side of you continued to latch onto the people you tried not to give two fucks about. You hated yourself even more. You were a hypocrite. But you just couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.

 

One time you tried to convince yourself that you were over her. But when you finally thought that you had ran far enough from your memories, your past somehow caught up to you, dragged you back into the black tar of guilt and regret, suffocated you, filled your lungs and your ears with its filth until you were drowning, trapped, dead inside. You closed your eyes and decided you would let it take you. You couldn’t live the way you were anymore. Maybe if you fried your brain with your psionics, it would solve all of your problems. And just as you thought that, the voices kicked in. They began to laugh, twisted and vile sounds ripping from nothingness around you, clawing at your think pan and behind your eyes and it hurt, it hurt so much and you were on your floor, huddled over, screaming and begging for a dead girl who didn’t exist anymore to make it stop, to make the bad things go away.

 

_“Sollux”_

It was so loud, yet quiet.

_“It’s okay. Everything is okay now.”_

You lifted your head, sitting up, shoulders hunched, but you saw no one. She was not here. But you swear you could feel hands on your neck, your hair, your shoulders. Barely there. Barely touching. The voices dissipated, and your eyes widened.

 

_“You are going to be okay.”_

 

And then, it was gone. You felt a cold breeze, and you shivered, and then... Silence. It was absolutely silent.

You slowly rose to your feet, legs like jello, and stumbled over to your desk. Everything was spinning. You grabbed the back of your chair for support, feeling the room move beneath your feet. There was a ringing in your ears, and the weight of the world fell onto your shoulders as you collapsed to your knees in front of your computer, staring at the monitor, at all the Trollian logs that were open on your desktop. All hidden behind one that had no greeting on it.

A single phrase.

The only one that had your attention.

 

 

 

 

apocalypseArisen [AA] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]


End file.
